Love is Blind
by Imadra Blue
Summary: Obi-Wan is having trouble with his feelings and doesn't quite understand all of them, especially the most elusive one: love. Gen.


**Disclaimer:** Star Wars and all its characters are property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Notes:** Set three months after RotS. The poem recited in the story was inspired by a biblical verse that quotes the first line.

--

Obi-Wan Kenobi drew his hooded cloak about him more tightly, already feeling the harsh, dry atmosphere of Tatooine sucking the moisture out of him. He'd only been on the planet three months and he already felt withered, old, and desiccated -- like a walking, talking corpse. If it weren't for Luke and the joy Obi-Wan took from sneaking into the Lars homestead to sit by Luke's cradle at night, Obi-Wan wondered if he might have just curled up and died already.

He had tried several times to contact Qui-Gon Jinn, but despite Master Yoda's assurances, Obi-Wan hadn't even been able to hear a whisper from his old Master. He had spent his days sitting in the humble little hut he now lived in, trying to meditate and reach Qui-Gon through the Force. So far, the only discovery he'd made was that it was possible to sweat one's body weight in perspiration and not die. This was not a pleasant thought. Water was precious on Tatooine, and he couldn't waste it on frivolous baths every day -- and he _hated_ being dirty.

Obi-Wan sighed as he shelled out more credits for his groceries. The prices had gone up already. He glanced at the rotund old woman selling the fruits and vegetables, trying to discern through the Force if she was cheating him, but he sensed no deception in her. He packaged the food into the cloth sack he had brought and turned around, looking at the dusty streets of Anchorhead with a lump in his throat. He could see, feel, and hear echoes of Anakin in every shadow and in every corner of the drab city. Though Obi-Wan had never explored Tatooine while Anakin still lived there, the boy had somehow left indelible impressions of himself there through the Force during his early years. Obi-Wan braved the long, arduous walk to Anchorhead if for no other reason than to forget about Darth Vader's existence by remembering the sweet-faced boy whom Obi-Wan had grown to love, despite himself.

His love was his greatest failing as a Jedi, even above his failure to train Anakin. A Jedi was not supposed to know love. He was never supposed to be so attached to any individual like that. When he had realized he'd been betrayed by the man that he'd considered his brother, it had shattered his heart as though it had been made of glass. Anakin -- the bright, eager little boy laughing at him from the shadows of Tatooine -- was dead, and strutting around in his corpse on some Imperial dreadnought was the formidable, black-clad figure of Darth Vader.

_Why didn't you kill him, Obi-Wan? Why didn't you end it there on Mustafar? Why did you walk away?_

Obi-Wan almost dropped his sack of food when he heard Qui-Gon's voice. He looked around, but there was nothing other than the fat old woman with parched skin counting his credits. Obi-Wan continued to walk down the street. "Master Qui-Gon?" he whispered, scratching at his beard.

Qui-Gon did not answer.

Why hadn't he finished it? He could have run his lightsaber right through Anakin's middle when he had leapt at him. Yet, Obi-Wan had not done that. He had chosen to swing wide and instead deprive Anakin of his remaining flesh limbs. Instead of walking down and ending Anakin's life once and for all, Obi-Wan had chosen to walk away. Why _had_ he done that?

It was a simple answer really: because he was too weak to kill Anakin. His heart had already been shattered, he could not bear the thought of killing him, though it no doubt meant that he had inadvertently allowed many Jedi and other innocents to suffer and die. Anakin had been his greatest accomplishment, but was now his greatest failure. The blood of the Jedi that Vader was hunting now stained Obi-Wan's hands as well. It was these thoughts that prevented Obi-Wan from sleeping without nightmares lately, and only the stolen moments he shared with Anakin's son at night were able to give him any true peace.

_How could you not see it, Obi-Wan? How could you not see someone you loved so much fall into darkness? How could you be so blind?_

Though Qui-Gon's questions seemed accusatory, his tone was not. His voice sounded sad, even curious. Obi-Wan looked around again, but there was nothing out of the ordinary of the busy streets of Anchorhead. He continued to walk.

"I don't know, Master. I don't know," he whispered, but Qui-Gon again made no response.

There was a teenaged girl standing in the streets, under the shadow of one of the outlying buildings, reciting poetry for extra money. She was blind, and a tattered strip of cloth had been wrapped around her face. Like many of the inhabitants of Tatooine, she seemed weathered and aged beyond her years. Her hair was surprisingly healthy, a rich brown color that glinted red in the sun. Obi-Wan paused to listen to her recitations as she stood, clad in drab, stained robes, her hands outstretched to the people on the streets as though in supplication.

"Love is patient, and love is kind.  
Love is wise, and love is blind.  
Love is earned, and love is won.  
Love is old, and love is young.  
Love is cruel, and love is lined.  
Love is yours, and love is mine.  
Love knows all, and love knows none.  
Love is the moon, and love is the sun.  
It can hurt, and it can bleed.  
But only love can make you need.  
Love comes from inside and high above.  
Love is pure, and love is... love."

The blind girl's head turned fully to face Obi-Wan, her hands reaching out towards him, but not _to_ him. "Love can never be wrong. To love in of itself is a gift," she said in her clear bird's voice.

Obi-Wan realized a tear streaked down his face, and it surprised him. He wiped his face as he stared at the strange girl. He reached out through the Force and sensed the girl was indeed sensitive to the Force, as many of Tatooine's inhabitants were. The Jedi never came here to look for potential younglings, and he had met a surprising quantity of Force-adept people.

"But what if love leads to pain and death? What if love leads to suffering and ruin?" he asked the girl. He was old enough to be her father and trained in the Jedi arts, but there he was, breathlessly awaiting her response as though she were a Jedi Master and he was her Padawan Learner.

"Love can lead to these things, yes, but it shall also lead you out of them," she told him in a matter-of-fact tone. "Love is never simple, but suffering is part of life. Do not regret that you loved, even if it made you blind. Your love has made you the man you are today, and it will mold the boy whose cradle you sit by every night. It is love, faith, and hope that shall light the way and purify the misdeeds of love. You have love, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and you have hope -- now all you need is faith."

"How do you know all that? How do you know my name?" demanded Obi-Wan. He'd only given his name as "Ben" to the people who had bothered to ask for it -- and they had been few and far between. The girl did not answer him and turned from him to tell one of approaching children a funny story about a bantha and a Jawa.

Sensing that whatever moment that had been created between them had passed, Obi-Wan dropped a handful of credits into the pot lying on the ground and walked away, feeling as though he had been absolved of his guilt and condemned for his weaknesses at the same time. It was a long walk back to the edge of the Dune Sea where his hut was, but he needed the walk to clear his head.

_Do you understand now, Obi-Wan?_ came Qui-Gon's voice after some time.

"Yes," answered Obi-Wan, a bittersweet smile on his bearded face.

_Then, my young apprentice, you are ready to listen to what I have to teach you._

_End._


End file.
